Dawn: Of the Dead 1
by zzetta13
Summary: This work compiles a look at Dawn Lerner and the characters of Grady Hospital. If you are a follower of the WD television series then I feel that you will be able to relate. Readers not up to date on current events of the show should skip this. I've divulged into a little of my own make-up here, my own imagination. Hope that you enjoy, Z
1. Chapter 1

_**Dawn: Of the Dead**_

Author's note: Well, what can I say? Writing fan fiction and trying to stay current within some form of minute canon can sometimes bite you in the ass, not literally mind you, like an actual walker or zombie bite, but figuratively speaking of course. TWD is a great show and I love the way the creative team plays with our emotions. Still, I was not able to see the mid-season finally until two days after the fact, which brings my whole "_Island of the Damned_" conception work to a screeching halt. Well actually I am attempting to try to think of ways of salvaging the last chapter or two.

Anyway, I am starting a new work here and I'm humorously calling it _Dawn: Of the Dead_. A little antic in its conception and although, as it seems, that the character Dawn Lerner claimed to be wanting to help people, an awful lot of them seemed to possess the desire to run away, or may have been killed in the attempt (_and then ending up down the zombie shaft, hence the name, Dawn: Of the Dead_). Did the law-enforcement commander really want to save people, or was her desire to just actually increase her flock of slaves, people that she could control?

Also, although Dawn Lerner did seem a little crazy at times (_as presented in the first sub-title of the story work: Crazy Eyes_), there were times that I found myself feeling sorry for her. Someone placed in a position of power trying to keep things together, in a world gone zombie, well that has to be tough...and being in a leadership role_to-boot,_ has to make it even tougher.

Dawn had done things, things that she was not particularly proud of, and also things that others were unwilling to do, but still she did them. Did this make her crazy? (Didn't Rick Grimes seem to get a little crazy in the first few seasons of this show? Actually I think he still hasn't collected all of his marbles, figuratively speaking). Dawn in my opinion is a character that needs to be explored further.

Anyway, this beginning chapter is my attempt to discover and uncover what made Dawn Lerner tick, what may have caused her to be the way she was. This all is just creative interjection on my part, starting with almost an entirely blank page, and of course I've used some of the current information available to try to claim some canon about the character, still it is all just made up. And I thank you for taking a look, Z

Exploring the characters of Grady Memorial Hospital a little deeper... hope that you find it interesting and enjoy.

_******************* Crazy Eyes *********************_

What can be said about Dawn Lerner? Well, the obvious is that she was a woman, a woman of strong character and will, and strength of determination. And then too, it seems that she could be considered a formidable opponent, if anyone dare to face-off with her on the field of battle then they might soon find that they had well underestimated her abilities.

In her senior-high yearbook...it was noted, by one of her male friends, that post-graduation she would likely become, and she was voted in her class that way, _one of the top five individuals of which not to get in the way of_, _or have as an enemy_.

Dawn was a girl back then that not many folk knew well, and that was something of which she did purposely. She didn't want people to know things about her, it was her preference. Dawn kept her home and family life separate from her school activities. She was somewhat of a reclusive person, and although that did seem a bit strange, it was unknown that she kept secrets deep within her soul, things about her childhood, secrets of abuse...not necessarily towards herself as to say, but rather, as to what she'd witnessed...the abuse of her older siblings.

It was thought that Dawn had three older brothers, and a father who was ex-military hardcore. The man demanded discipline from his sons and he got it. She was raised in this sort of environment, an atmosphere where she hated her father for the way he'd treated her older brothers, however, when two of them had grown up to become fine young men and then law officers, she changed her mind a bit about her dad. Her third brother had lost his way, becoming involved in drugs and a life of none restraint, no discipline, and soon they were holding services for him at Oakland Cemetery.

Anyway, what did that have to do with the person that Dawn would become, well everything. She believed that everything, well most things, were achieved through discipline and respect. If someone lost those aspects of themselves, then they lost control, they lost hope (a point driven deep into her subconscious by the death of her young brother, the one closest to her in age).

Then, upon his own death, in his deathbed, her father had whispered something out of his mouth which she rarely had heard, the words _I love you and I'm proud of you_. She stood witness as the man passed away, and she was alone in the room with him when he'd moved on. Her two surviving brothers were unable to make it for their father's last days. Job and family duties had kept them away until the funeral (or maybe it was that they did not want to be there for a man who had caused them so much pain).

Anyway, Dawn was already in the academy by then...Officer Candidate for the City of Atlanta's Police Department. She had moved up, and rather quickly, and although there were some men in her life (Dawn had always mostly been hurt and let down by those of her fondness) there was no one special. Most couldn't keep up with her stamina and agility, and, her ability to stay loyal to one person. She did not fret over it; she knew that she was a demanding female. A woman only willing to give of herself to an accomplished suitor, a man to tame her soul, so to speak, a man that she could love and respect. So far no one fit the bill. However, there was that one guy, Captain Hanson. Hanson really wasn't her type, as love interest go, but still he was a fellow of impeccable code.

Not particularly handsome, Hanson was a man that drew attention, not as anyone known for their public appeal, but rather as to their ability to command. He held an aura about himself, a configuration that spoke volumes as to his nature and confidence. He was someone who knew what to do in stressful situations. Dawn was in awe of his leadership abilities, as where others. As a commander he knew what to say and what to do to convince people to follow (and to make the right choices). He was a man also who commissioned himself for respect. His desired was to perform his duty and for others to follow, however, what happens when those orders cease to come?

Hanson had been cast over a small police unit to cover Grady Memorial Hospital, and also, to await survivors whenever the outbreak had reached a level of expanding proportions. He was a good commander, an excellent choice for the higher-ups to put in charge, but, as the orders began to trickle down less, it was becoming more evident that maybe Captain Hanson was not so much the man to have been given this duty. He wasn't good at making decisions on the fly, but rather one who seemed to need guidance. What happens to a person, someone who has been geared to follow orders all of his life, then, when those orders cease to become conveyed, what happens? They might begin to lose it, their sense of ability and control, how will they lead?

Hanson was actually a man who could not function well, if his path had no objective, no direction; he was there to punch a clock. He was actually only a pawn in which society's upper management had watered down, put into a position as a victim of command, rather than leadership. This may have become the reason why it was seen as necessary to confer as to his elimination. The feeling was that he'd lost touch with the current. That, after the communications links began to falter, was why it was considered that he was nonfunctional, if he didn't have orders to follow, and when presented with problems, his hesitation began to cost lives.

There was held a meeting at Grady Memorial, a meeting in confidence. It was decided that Hanson had to go, but who would do it? There was a look around the table, blue uniforms that all looked down and fiddled with their thumb whenever the spotlight was cast upon them...No one wanted to make the decision, or take charge of what to do. Who wanted to be in charge of a life altering event, well, there few candidates...'cepting for one.

Dawn Lerner, with her crazy eyes, looked around the table.

"I'll do it," she spoke, "mind you, I love Hanson like he was part of my own blood and, as you all know, if you are a brother or sister of law enforcement (and she looked over at Shepherd and Lamson in particular), then you are blood. However, his leadership has cost us some good people. Therefore someone needs to be in control who knows what it takes to move forward. Hanson has lost the ability to command without taking lives, now...he should be removed," and then Dawn paused at this moment, and looked at every face in the conference room before continuing, " as to how...and the extent of his removal is proposed to the congregation. Should this change accrue, it may represent a significant alteration in the manner in which it was subject to be ordained, and that is beyond our spoken oath, our path. I present to you...as well as you all know that this may be to the point of bringing him down. I ask for permission to do this, and I seek a show of hands as to agreement."

Dawn looked around the table as to arms (encased in blue sleeve) who knew as to the extent of what she was speaking of, and as to the letter of what it may involve. Royal blue sleeves began to rise. Lamson was the last to raise his arm, but he essentially did. He had known this woman before the outbreak, and he knew what she was capable of doing. Dawn, Dawn Lerner, had been a person of unquenchable direction, he had known it for a while now. He had been there at the academy when she'd been given the nick-name _Crazy Eyes_, and he knew that her own stability was a rocking-chair, that it proceeded to sway back and forth, one day it was north, the next south. However, she may be considered the better choice of candidates as to commander of this fold. He too raised his hand, only with exception...

"Good, it settled then. I'll do the deed, whatever it takes, but what I want in return is the command of Grady Hospital. What I say goes, it's the rule, the law...any objections?"

Dawn spoke as if she were on a mission, a mission as to what could be (and would be), allowed, before rescue came. And she felt confident that rescue was coming. She looked around the table to each face sitting there. All seemed to be in compliance in her willingness to move forward, the deed be done, she would be regarded as commander regardless, and then she added as a bonus...

"There will be certain arrangements relaxed," she said, "as put forth by commander Hanson," and she looked over at Gorman at this time. "I don't deny that some of our people have urges, and I am willing to forgo their extreme-ities, should they remain under control and not get too uncontrollable, understood?"

Gorman looked at her, and bowed his head in understanding... sure he was willing to comply at this time, a relaxation of the rules (?) who would not vote in the affirmation of a change that allowed them more freedom?

Gorman had been among the first to have adapted Lerner as the new leader over Grady Memorial. He smiled as to his conformation.

END PART 1


	2. Chapter 2

_**Dawn: Of the Dead 2**_

Author's note: _**Attention**_, spoilers in this portion of the author's note are forthcoming, so be warned.

I have become increasingly impressed with Emily Kinney. I think it began around the time that she and Norman Reedus were stuck at the moonshine cottage together; I really enjoyed the interaction between the two of them. Anyway, with good writing comes good acting, and the hook of the show demands that actors bring their "A" game. I have rarely been disappointed in an episode of the _**WD**_ and I feel like that trend will continue. However, the sadness of it is that it will go on without Emily. I do hope that Kirkman and the rest of the WD creative team can find a way to bring her back, maybe in dream sequences of Maggie or something.

Anyhoo, I certainly did not see what happened at the end of the mid-season finally coming, they got me there, and that is one of the things that makes this show so entertaining (however Mr. Kirkman, I am still pissed), anyway what has happened has happened, so no sense tearing up over spilled moonshine (or moonshine thrown at a burning cabin), anyway, part 2 of Dawn: Of the Dead is up and running. Hope you enjoy, Z

_**************** Down the Zombie Hole ***************_

Police commander Dawn Lerner stood next to Dr. Steven Edwards looking down at a patient who minutes ago had died from her injuries. She now had a big hole in the side of her head that hadn't been there before.

"So, what happened," the leader of Grady Memorial Hospital inquired? Edwards looked over at her...

"You mean before this?" he asked, pointing at the patient's head.

"Yes," Dawn Lerner said, "I already know what happened there. I mean, what did she die from, her injuries didn't seem that severe?"

Edwards seemed a little puzzled, how could the commander over Grady Hospital know of the devastating puncture wound in the victim's head before he did. When he had left the room in an attempt to find the police chief to inform her (that the poor woman was diseased), she hadn't had anything driven through her brain. Someone had come in behind him and done this to her. Now suddenly the doctor's eyes flashed as he realized who'd done the deed.

"Maybe you should ask Andy of Mayberry," the doctor said, "he seems to have visited the room after my departure. He probably could tell ya everything about her, physically. Any imperfection on the woman's body...a mole on her thigh, a pierced belly button, he likely did a thorough investigation of the corpse in private, no witnesses. He could probably tell you her breasts size. Of course it is a little disturbing, that he's begun lowering himself to fondling the dead. The man is sick."

Dawn looked at Dr. Edwards...

"You should probably thank Gorman, he came in to check on the lady and found her gone, passed away. He did the dirty deed of putting her to rest for you."

"Yeah, after he copped a feel or two," Edwards answered.

Dawn didn't reply to his remark. She just gave him those crazy eyes. He knew that he was on her "shit" list, or maybe he should call it her "hit" list, should someone seek the safety of the hospital with the same qualifications as he, or better, he was sure that he would be headed down...

"Zombie Shaft..."

Edwards was quickly zonked out of his daydream, or maybe it should be called night-dream, since it was already dark out.

"What...?"

Dawn looked at the doctor...

"I said zombie shaft. Get rid of the body. Get a couple of the orderlies to help you with the deceased and tote her body down to the drop. The hospital is already suffering from a stint of depression. We haven't had any good news for weeks."

"Good news? You mean like we're going to be rescued or the hospital has gotten lucky and acquired a new doctor."

Dawn again said nothing to his smart-ass remark and Edwards knew that it was only a matter of time before someone came that could match his credentials and she wouldn't need him anymore. Then she could find a way to do away with him, eliminate the pain in her ass. Maybe she would let Gorman do it; he seemed good at sticking sharp things into people's skulls. And the one thing that Steven knew, that after his departure he didn't have to worry about being fondled after death, he didn't possess the right equipment.

"Internal injuries," he spoke.

"What?"

"You asked about what killed the woman. Severe internal bleeding; we didn't know how bad she was injured."

Dawn seemed pleased that he had finally answered her question.

"OK, I'll help you undo the straps and then I'll get someone to assist you in bringing her down the hallway," Lerner said.

_**************** Arrival ***************_

Just before Edwards agreed to do the dirty deed, of dropping the corpse down the elevator shaft, an alarm sounded. There was a new arrival.

"Get the room next over ready," Lerner voiced, "we can deal with this later," she commanded.

Edwards did just that. He rushed into the next room and began getting the things he thought that he might need together. Male or female, he wondered what gender the next arrival would be, or maybe it would be both, more than one. He had little time to think about it whenever the new arrival was wheeled into the room. He turned to see who his patient was, a girl, a youthful girl, and pretty. He knew that he would have to make arrangement to keep Gorman out of this person's room, if she survived. He looked over at the two individuals assisting him.

"Straps!" he voiced loudly, "Strap her down!"

It was standard practice. As pretty as she was, that didn't mean that she wasn't infected, and getting a geek-bite from someone that you were trying to help only made his job more dangerous.

Edwards did a quick survey...no bite marks, no scratches, nothing that he could discern at first initial inspection. No indication of something that could cause his patient to deteriorate rather quickly, and then you'd be stuck, with a wild-ass crazy...instead of a patient. There were a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing that looked like it had been caused by a living dead. He opened the patient's eyes and shined his surgical light into them.

The _**eyes**_, that was the key...the tell-all sign. If a victim's eyes were beginning to turn bloodshot then it was known that they had become poisoned. Edwards didn't know much about the disease, this plague, this scourge of humanity which had made victims of three quarters of society, however, what he had been able to assess was that if the individual eyes were streaming with red veins, then they likely were beginning to turn.

So far no red streaks, and he was suddenly taken back. The girl, his patient, her eyes were beautiful. Like blue waters of a crystal clear lake. If she lived (?), this girl would need protection. There may be zombies out on the outside of this hospital, but there were sharks on the inside. Edwards made a note that he would lock the door upon his departure. The monitors left hooked up to the young woman would let the nurse's station down the hall know if she needed assistance.

Finally, he was happy that his surgical experience might do some good. He hadn't had a success story in weeks. He looked over at one of the individuals assisting him.

"This one we might be able to save," he said.

END PART 2


	3. Chapter 3

_**Dawn: Of the Dead 3**_

"_**Dead by Dawn"**_

Author's note: I am always looking for inspiration to give me the initiative to create and write stories, and looking through YT videos I came across this song, _**Dead or Alive by Taryn Southern**_...a WD tribute. Please check this out...it is a very impressive creation. Thanks, Z

Sub-Titles: Grady memorial, House Arrest

"_Is it better to live in the lowest level of heaven or the supreme level of hell? Dawn Lerner thinks that she has created something good here at Grady Memorial, so she is confused as to why folk are wanting to leave. Isn't this better than foraging for survival on the outside? In her mind she thinks that after a person leaves, shortly they will want to return, in fact she tells them this very thing, often. The woman certainly has issues, and so does her unit. Here, some of those issues are explored."_

_****************Grady Memorial ***************_

There were few people who really knew Dawn Lerner, and even fewer that she, herself had respect for. There were so many more that she held in ill regard, folk that didn't measure up to her standards. The fact was, actually, that this woman lived in a world of insecurity, regardless of the apocalypse. She was a woman who remained on the edge, a person who thought that the only way she could feel good about herself was if she could prove that she was in control. That sense of power gave her meaning.

Yes, it was a front, she hid a lot of her apprehension behind her badge and her uniform but after a while people began to realize that she was really like them, a scared survivor living in an uncertain world, then too...was it that her power began to flake away. It was only a matter of time before Officer Lerner's control would be lifted, but she was going to try to hold on to it as long as she could.

Beth...now here was a girl Lerner had come to see as an opponent, well at first, a threat, a pretty girl with a fire inside. She had to bring her down, bend her, for the good of the group, the good of the hospital. Grady Memorial was her domain, her territory, and she wasn't about to let some little girl or anyone really, turn HER hospitality around and make her lose control, it didn't work that way. If you were rescued and you were a survivor then you had a debt to pay and a contract to fulfill. That's the way it went.

This kind of structure gave Dawn a way to assess her new arrivals, see if they were fit, worthy of keeping, or if they were worthless and, once healthy, should be let go, returned to the world of the _rotters_. She also retained the last word if a new arrival was to be extinguished, on the down-low. _**Dead by Dawn**_ was the phrase used by her constituents.

Dawn, as leader of this band of ruffians at Grady, didn't need people who couldn't work and help with the program (so to speak), she needed strong bodies, strong individuals. The problem with that was if someone had lasted this long on the outside during the apocalypse then they likely were the type of person already, who knew how to survive. And too, as strong bodies go, it usually meant that they were also strong willed, and this was bad for her control.

She had to find a way to break that will, take that control. Dawn could see that Beth would be a challenge, and her desire was not to eliminate the challenge but use it, turn it around to see things her way. If she could arrange it so that Beth would turn to her side, began to think in terms of her way, then she may have some help whenever the other officers under her command began to mutiny, and she knew that they would, she felt it coming. However for now her unit was still following orders.

Dawn's system wasn't a bad system, but it wasn't great either, actually they had it pretty good. Existing in the upper levels of a hospital, whereas some folk didn't have that, but like everything in this new world, if you had something of worth then you'd better protect it, or someone or some group would take it from you. This was one of the reasons why this group of Atlanta police officers still wore their uniforms (Rick Grimes had long ago abandoned his), and not only did they remain in blue but they kept their suits clean and spotless, or rather Noah did.

When the officers of Grady Memorial ventured out to resupply their stores (and their numbers), they did it in clean uniforms, pressed and detailed suits which spoke authority. People put down their weapons just on that account. Survivors surrendered just at the idea that it seemed that these folk were in control, that there must be some manner of organization about them, which was true, to a point. It wasn't until later that it was discover how frail that organization was. It was almost like the _"blues"_ in the hospital were more at seeking who could take control, rather than seeing to the survivors who were brought back.

There was an internal struggle going on, just who would end up on top was anyone's guess. _**PitA**_ (_Politics in the Apocalypse_), yeah, it still went on, just has it had for centuries before, when humanity still lived in caves. Somehow our situation seemed to hold a bit of comic justice, an irony which spoke that we may be returning to those times...

_****************House Arrest ***************_

Beth at first was struggling with the idea of the arrangement she had fallen into. In the beginning it looked as if this would be a good place to settle. A place to stay until she could rejoin her clan. However the longer she was at Grady the more she felt as a prisoner, and it wasn't just her, it seemed to be everyone. There were duties to be performed and jobs to be done however there had been the same with her old tribe (only here it felt different). She felt more like a slave here, indentured, with no way to gain favor unless she turned into a rat, sleaze-ball or some other kind of person that just wasn't in her nature.

Beth could see that this was how Dawn kept her people in line, there was not only the threat from the outside, but there was also the threat from within. If the commander over Grady hospital could have people telling on each other, tattling on their neighbor, then she could stop the progression of insurrection before it became too powerful.

Beth had already been beaten down by Dawn. What ruler gains loyalty from her subjects by doing such a thing? Dawn had told her it was a hard price to pay, that it had nothing to do about love, but more, was about respect. Well Beth understood that, and she could see Dawn's point in some regard, but she also knew that this woman was a bit off-kilter. Maybe the stress was getting to her.

Anyway Beth had made an attempt at escape with Noah, and he had made it out, but she had not. Still, she was happy that at least one of them had become free. She had paid the price for her disloyalty, and she was wondering what would come next (?)

END PART 3


	4. Chapter 4

_**Dawn: Of the Dead 4**_

"_**Tragedy No More"**_

Author's note: In this chapter is contained the final workings to the story arc _**Dawn: Of the Dead**_, and as such it will move beyond the efforts spent to save Carol and Beth, and just jump ahead to when Rick and his crew are exiting Grady Hospital.

Everyone that watches the show and reads fan-fic knows the end result of what happened at Grady Memorial...a 50% success story, not bad, but on a personal note, a failure...as seen by every member of the collective team of the Atlanta tribe (one was saved while one was not). And that resulted in a no-win situation for the fold as far as Rick Grimes was concerned. The ex-deputy's goal is (as is the goal of every member of his team), to not only save as many of their group as they can (that's a given), but to save them all.

Of course how can that be possible in a world gone zombie? It isn't. No, your chances of surviving may be well less than winning a mega-zillion dollar lottery, should the world have gone unchanged. Surviving the apocalypse promotes a zero to slim chance of making it all the way to the end (And, just to throw in a bit of weird imagery here, I can envision two walkers standing around doing scratch-offs and then one them looking over at the other and saying, "Hey! Look at this, I won the Power Ball!"), just an image that seems funny to me.

Anyhoo, I've taken this opportunity to move past what has happened to Beth, and to move more into the cranium of the old Atlanta tribe's leader, to study Rick. What's in his brain at this time, what is filtering through his mind. And what may be his options, should worse come to worse?

As a set of folk who have survived (_the "collective"),_ each of the Atlanta tribe members have contemplated their own deaths, and the question of what would come after. Why wouldn't they? Each would say that when they meet death, that their hope is that they would reach their end honorably, and to that regard each of them has made a pact with another, a commitment which speaks that should you die before me than I will certainly make sure that you will rest in peace forever, and vic-versa. Those of the Grimes faction have at least agreed with one other person that..._If I die, or get bitten, save at least one bullet for me_.

_*****************One Bullet ****************_

Rick Grimes wondered down the halls of Grady Hospital. He was in a daze...still stunned, just as it was certain that every soul who traveled behind him, in his path, were completely dazed as well. He could hear someone weeping behind him, and he did not have to take a glance backwards to know who it was.

Daryl was in a fix, taking this hard, maybe harder than anyone else. After all, hadn't he and Beth spent some time together after the group had been disbanded due to that stunt pulled by the Governor back at the prison a few weeks prior.

Rick had considered his group, well most of them, lucky. They had been able to reconnect at Terminus, prior or after. That was the thing about this world; the joys and happiness were unbalanced, unbalanced with the tragedy (_with tragedy holding the upper hand_). While there were some good times, the pain and suffering outweighed its counterpart by mega-loads. When would the heartbreak end?

Rick Grimes contemplated what would happen, how his life would change, if he ever lost Carl or Judith (_or God forbid both of them_), if he lost them to eternal sleep...or maybe to something even worse, as part of the undead? Where would he go, what would he do? Living would become meaningless. If that horrid thing should ever happen then every breath he took afterwards would be marred and haunted by ideas of what he could have done differently, things that could have altered or changed the outcome, the course of destiny...

If, if, if...the world was full of "ifs". His mind was fragmented with possibilities. He had already been debating with himself what could he have done differently, differently to have saved his wife, Lori, and have her still here, with him. Or what deal could he have made with the Governor to have had him drop his guard down, just long enough to salvage Hershel?

T-Dog, Andrea, and Dale too, never left his thoughts for very long. Maybe Abraham was right. Maybe they should all head towards the Capital. Maybe that was the place to get answers, to get resolve, to set an end to this freakishness.

Rick Grimes exited the hospital and became a little bewildered. Why? Because he could see that the rest of his troop had already arrived, that they were advancing, moving forward to assist in the bid of the outcome. Well, they were a bit too late.

He could see Maggie, and his head tilted in such a fashion that spoke that she should not have held any hope. Who of them should?

"_These days of hope and happiness, who be deceived as such?"_

Rick could remember that line from a poem he'd read, although the rest of it remain elusive and the author's name evaded him as well. No, he just remembered that one line, and how it fit this moment so well.

He saw Maggie fall to her knees when she saw Daryl with her sister, and he melted, melted spiritually, if not physically.

Tragedy no More...Rick would make sure that he got the group to Washington, or do his best to. However, if he failed, or it he lost his children along the way, there was one bullet reserved for himself, one slug to end it all. He'd already talked to Carol and Daryl about leadership of the clan. And he felt confident that, should something happen to him, that they were well qualified to take over the duty.

END


End file.
